


Ignition

by steelcrash



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a one-night stand, Optimus Prime finds himself in a situation he never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ignition

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime came out of recharge, avoiding onlining his optics. His head hurt, his processor was sluggish and a quick check of his internal chronometer showed it wasn't nearly as late has he thought. Obviously the high grade was wearing off, a particularly potent batch of hooch supplied by Perceptor and the twins. Then there was the stuff Kup had produced somewhere near the middle of the impromptu gathering. The stuff which lead to now. The part where he was sharing his berth the last mech he would've chosen.

Given circumstances, however, he knew he had. Several times already. And now he suddenly found himself looking up into a pair of optics. The mech looking down at him had an optic ridge raised in question.

:Everything OK?:

Optimus nodded.

:Good. Go back to sleep. You worry too much.:

The last comment was given with a quick, soft kiss, followed by the grinding of the other mech's frame into his own. Optimus didn't ignore the desire growing between them as his spark flared toward the other. How long had it been since he last lived in a moment?

Saturday morning. At least he thought it was morning. No. Not morning, Optimus reflected, once again checking his chronometer. Closer to noon local time. And the base was dead, from the looks of things. No NEST humans running about with their daily duties, and his Autobots were equally quiet. Disturbing. Prowl was supposed to be on duty in ops, so maybe he had things well in hand?

:Prowl:

:Yes?:

:Everything all right?:

:Fine. The Wreckers left this morning, a little later than planned, and Ratchet and I agreed considering how late the party went, to give everyone a break. Just once. With your permission, of course. I've made a few changes to the duty roster for the rest of the day, taking into account who didn't get overcharged last night. So you're off the rest of the day. Sir.:

:Carry on, Prowl. And thank you:

:You're always welcome:

Knowing when he wasn't needed, the Autobot leader went back to his quarters, crawled into his berth, falling into a deep recharge.

One week later

Ratchet waited until the med bay was cleared out to confront his leader with his findings. He needed privacy and a few moments to collect himself before he did something regretful. Like offlining his dear Prime with his favorite wrench. Permanently. Then he would miss the chance to redress the other Autobot for his current condition and stupidity. At least Optimus was stable, and he received the worst of the injuries from the latest tangle with the Decepticons. The medic's intakes hitched as he sighed. Why me? he thought, walking from his office.

Seeing the medic, Optimus swung his legs off the med berth, ready to leave, with Ratchet's permission, of course.

Ratchet looked down at him, arms crossed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"To my quarters," Optimus said.

"In a few moments," Ratchet said. "There is something I need to tell you."

"I'm all right, aren't I? You completed my repairs," Optimus said.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Ratchet said.

"Then what's the matter?"

Ratchet decided the direct approach was best, so he spat it out.

"You're sparked," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Ignition

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Sparked?" Optimus said.

"Yes. Sparked," Ratchet answered.

"Ratchet, if this is a poor attempt at a joke. . ." Optimus said.

"I am not joking," Ratchet said. "I wouldn't joke about something like this. You are sparked. Carrying. Expecting a sparkling in, oh, give or take three months."

"You're sure?"

"I ran the scan three times," Ratchet said. "And my diagnostic equipment is not in need of repair. Everything in this med bay was checked, repaired or replaced during the month Red Alert and the Wreckers were here. You know that. You helped."

He looked at his leader. Optimus wouldn't meet his optics. Then he started to list to the side. Ratchet reached out a steadying hand. Maybe being blunt wasn't the best way to deliver the news.

"But it was only one night. . ." Optimus muttered.

"It only takes once," Ratchet said. "And I don't need to know who or where or how many times. That's your business. I do need to run a few more scans but we can do that tomorrow, after you've had a chance to get some recharge. And we need to continue this conversation when you're feeling up to it. Tomorrow, hopefully. All right?"

Optimus nodded in acceptance. Ratchet helped him to his feet, watching the other Autobot make his way slowly out of the med bay. That was going to be one interesting conversation.

88888

Staring up at the ceiling in his quarters wasn't very entertaining, nor recharge-inducing. Too many thoughts running through his head. Optimus Prime could not believe the news. He was sparked. That's what he got for a drunken night of pleasure with someone he barely knew. Someone he didn't even know, really. Designation and rank. And something of the other's reputation.

Someone safe. Someone he could spend a night with, not having to worry about the consequences, nor having to deal with them on a day to day basis. Someone who wouldn't be around long enough to make a difference. Wrong, he thought, finally drifting off to recharge.

88888

0800 Sunday morning. Ratchet expected Optimus, but not so early. Luckily, he was as ready as he could be.

"Good morning, Optimus," he said as the Autobot leader took a seat on one of the empty berths.

Optimus didn't reply.

"All right then," Ratchet said. "To begin, do you have any questions?"

"Can you remove the spark?" Optimus asked. "Couldn't one of the femmes be used as a surrogate?"

"If I'd known about it within a day or two of it being sparked, that could have been a viable option," Ratchet said. "But it's not now. If you don't want it, ending the gestation is always. . ."

"You will not terminate this spark," Optimus said, optics blazing.

"I was speaking rhetorically," Ratchet said. "So you want to keep it. Good. But do you know what you're in for? Mechs can and did carry quite frequently back on Cybertron. There is no reason why you can't have a successful gestation here on Earth. I've already prepared a couple of data pads for you with some information you should read-on gestational changes to your body, and on sparkling care. Also, I'm going to have to talk with Perceptor about getting the additives you'll need for you energon while you carry. I'll talk with him later today and see what we can come up with."

He handed over the data pads, clapping Optimus on the shoulder.

"Now, I just need to run a couple of deep scans to get a better idea of just how far along you are. Is that all right?" Ratchet said.

"Go ahead," Optimus said.

Ratchet produced a small scanner, holding it over his Prime's spark chamber, looking for the tiny spark signature. It took a few moments to find, and he watched the screen connected to the scanner as the image of the developing sparkling appeared. A little blip compared to the size of its creator's spark, but there it was, a bright ball of energy connected to the larger orb by an umbilicus, and partially obscured by the growing gestational sac and growing processor and spinal column.

"I'm guessing it's about a week old, correct? Given the size and development so far," Ratchet said, levelled his gaze on his leader waiting for an answer.

Optimus finally nodded. Ratchet raised an optic ridge in surprise. Interesting. That would put the conception date right around the party thrown for the Wreckers the night before they left. Not that he was going to ask his Prime about that aspect of his personal life. Quiet personal speculation, however, he was allowed, as medic and friend. He knew several of the Wreckers had turned heads on base during the month they were present, even a couple catching Optimus' optics. And Optimus wasn't saying anything. Not at all like his leader during a normal visit to the med bay. But this was hardly a typical visit. He switched the scanner off, putting it way.

"You have a healthy, developing sparking," Ratchet said. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Ratchet," Optimus said.

"You're welcome," Ratchet said. "Get out of here. Go rest. Go think up names. Remember, you're off duty today. Medically enforced day off, thanks to your battle antics, and now that you're carrying."

88888

His office seemed like a nice place to be. Partly. Optimus spent part of the morning recharging, as ordered, then went to his office with the intention of catching up on his reports. However, his optics kept straying to the two pads Ratchet gave him, and eventually he found himself reading the Cybertronian equivalent of "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Interesting reading. Meant for bonded pairs. Not a soon-to-be single creator. He sighed, setting the data pad down on his desk, resting his head in his hands. An embarrassing situation for he, a Prime, to be in. And about to be made better by the sound of approaching footsteps. He looked up, seeing Ironhide walking in.

"I thought you were off today," Ironhide said. "It's a Sunday. Your usual day off, and I know Ratchet was on your case that you were to have today off because of the repairs he did last night. So are you asking for trouble?

"I was here reading," Optimus said. "Nothing else."

"Anything good?" Ironhide said.

"Nothing you would be interested in," Optimus said, subspacing the two data pads from Ratchet.

"Heard from Magnus?" he asked, switching the subject.

"He's grumbling about the crew," Ironhide said. "The usual. Looking forward to coming back in a couple of months. He already misses me."

"Why didn't you two tell me you were bonded?" Optimus said.

"You never asked," Ironhide said. "Besides, it was only a few days before Tyger Pax that we bonded. Then we left Cybertron in search of the Allspark and Magnus and the Wreckers stayed behind. But let's not talk about that. Come on. Get out of this office. There's a poker game going in the rec room, and you can come play."

Optimus started to retort, but the look in his friend's optics suggested he better come. A game would be a temporary distraction for his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

Ignition

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Med bay. Again. Optimus Prime wanted to be as far away from the med bay as he could be, but he couldn't escape. Ratchet was talking about how they couldn't get the additives for his energon into a more palatable form, given his initial reaction to the mix-purging all over the med bay floor. The solution, for the moment, was daily injections until Perceptor came up with something better, or he could consult with the Wreckers medic, Red Alert, whichever came first.

". . .so first thing every morning, if that works," Ratchet finished. "And one more thing, I've been thinking, you do have another option besides trying to raise a sparkling by yourself. You could foster the sparkling with one of the bonded pairs."

He actually looked at Ratchet that time. Not a bad idea. The Autobots had three bonded pairs in their ranks-Hound and Mirage, Prowl and Barricade and Ironhide and Ultra Magnus.

"I'll think about it," Optimus said.

"That's what you say to all my ideas," Ratchet said.

Optimus snorted, standing. "Come up with something better, and I might be more inclined to listen," he said.

"Touchy this morning, aren't we?" Ratchet asked.

Optimus wanted to tell the medic where he could stuff his opinion, but kept his mouth shut. Not recharging well and then having to deal with Ratchet first thing wasn't his idea of fun.

"Get out of here," Ratchet said, shoving his Prime toward the door.

Almost 1800 and time to get off duty. Although what he was going to do with himself the rest of the evening, Optimus didn't know. Jazz and the human second-in-command Graham were sponsoring movie night in the rec room at 1900. He thought about going, just to have something to do, and keep his mind off things he knew he should be thinking about. Like when he was going to have to tell the humans about his condition. He was now two weeks into the gestation, and it was going well so far, but Ratchet kept hinting he was going to pull him off active duty the closer he got to the sparkling's emergence date.

He shook it off. Ratchet was driving him nuts, but he had his best interests at spark. Also, thankfully, he hadn't asked about the sire. That was no one's business. No one's at all but his.

1800 now. He stood, stretched, set to go get his evening energon in the rec room and relax. No such luck, as he saw Ironhide coming down the corridor toward him.

"Where are you going?" Ironhide asked. "It's only 1800. Usually you're welded to your desk until somebody has to come pry your aft out of your seat."

"I thought I would take a break for once," Optimus said. "Anything wrong with that?"

"No, I guess not," Ironhide said. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Optimus said, following his friend to the rec room.

They got their energon, taking a seat back in one of the corners. Ironhide wanted to have a little chat with his leader.

"I know we haven't had much of a chance to talk this week because we've both been busy, but there's something I want to ask. Is everything all right?" Ironhide said. And I've noticed you've been in the med bay first thing every morning for the past five days. That, to me, says something is up," Ironhide said.

"I don't want to talk about it," Optimus said.

Ironhide raised an optic ridge in surprise. No I'm fine, nothing's wrong. So something was going on.

"Missing one of the Wreckers?" Ironhide asked casually, hoping he might get an idea of what was bothering Optimus. A couple of them had caught Optimus' optic. Whether or not his friend did anything about it was another matter entirely.

"The crew's presence here is missed by everyone," Optimus said.

"Some more than others," Ironhide said, taking a sip of energon.

Optimus glared, prompting Ironhide to hide grin behind his energon container.

"Fine, I'll drop it if you don't want to talk about it right now," Ironhide said. "But I'll have it out of you one way or another."

He decided changing the subject was a good idea.

"Did you know the twins have another betting pool going on how long it will be before Jazz puts the moves on Wheeljack?"

He watched Optimus relax, tension melting from his frame. Now he confirmed something was going on with his friend, he was would have it out eventually. There would be time for it later.


	4. Chapter 4

Ignition

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet let himself into the quarters he shared with the twins. He'd missed movie night, thanks to Perceptor and a lab accident. Sideswipe grinned, seeing his mate.

"Late, as always," Sideswipe said. "You missed a good movie, but how's Percy doing?"

"He'll live," Ratchet answered, taking a seat on the berth by Sideswipe. "And I doubt a human movie is all that 'good.' What was this one about?"

"Zombies," Sideswipe said. He didn't mention the special surprise he had planned later that night for the base's human contingent, with the help of Mirage and Hound.

"Jazz and Graham picked a zombie movie?" Ratchet said. "I know Jazz has dubious taste, but. . .speaking of Jazz, I thought you two were going to spend some time together tonight."

"We were going to work on next month's movie night, but he said something about taking Wheeljack down to the beach and showing him a good time," Sideswipe said. "Or something like that."

"Jazz works fast," Ratchet said.

"You have no idea," Sideswipe answered. "It was his idea Wheeljack stay behind when the Wreckers left. He talked faster than Blurr when he convinced Ultra Magnus that we could use Wheeljack here more than they could on the Xantium, when they've had him all this time, and he was only here a month. And it's not like they don't have enough crew anyway. Oh yeah, before I forget, Sunny swapped shifts with Jazz tonight so he's on duty in ops so Jazz is taking his spot tomorrow night."

"Anything else I've missed tonight?" Ratchet said.

"Not much, except Prime came to the movie tonight," Sideswipe said. "That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about-is anything wrong with him because he's been in the med bay a lot, and you keep muttering about it in your recharge, and Prime has been. . .out of sorts the past couple of weeks. Even I can see that."

"He's fine, Sideswipe. It's late. We should get some recharge," Ratchet said, changing the subject.

88888

Certain aspects of Maj. William Lennox's career no longer surprised him. He knew Bobbie Epps had his back no matter what. Not at the moment. The airman was doubled over laughing while he tried calming down his hysterical second-in-command, Ian Graham. Graham's ranting had momentarily subsided into hyperventilation. Somebody had scared the hell out of Graham and several other soldiers returning from the Autobot living quarters.

Something about zombie hordes lumbering toward the barracks, hot on their heels. Then they disappeared. Lennox had a few names on his short list, and he figured it could wait until morning to deal with the prank. It was no coincidence as far as he was concerned. Zombie movie, zombies on base. There would be Autobots reduced to scrap metal in the morning, and he'd help. No doubt Optimus Prime would be ripping heads off when he heard about it. The Autobot leader had been. . .touchy lately. His business, Lennox reflected, but he wasn't the only one who noticed. It could wait. Graham's hysterics weren't over yet.

88888

Optimus Prime stood outside to the door to the twins' quarters, watching and waiting for the forced removal of Sideswipe from the premises. He heard the yelp as the silver twin was roused from recharge, scraping as he was dragged outside into the corridor, struggling. The Autobot leader leveled his steely gaze on the Autobot in Prowl's grip.

"I'm sorry and it won't happen again," Sideswipe said.

"Sorry for what?" Optimus asked. He knew, but he wanted to hear it from Sideswipe.

"Well, this is about last night, right?" Sideswipe said. "The zombie thing."

"Yes, it is about the zombie 'thing,'" Optimus said. "I accept that pranks are a part of life on this base, but you went too far. Capt. Graham spent the night in the med bay, under sedation. Someone could have been harmed."

"Oops," Sideswipe muttered. "Those must've been some holos. . ."

"I'm leaving your punishment up to Prowl," Optimus said. "I'm sure he'll come up with something suitable."

Sideswipe snorted, earning himself a cold look from the other Autobot, who released him.

"See ya later, Prowlie," Sideswipe said, humor in his voice. But he became serious when addressing his Prime. "Optimus, I am sorry. I'll apologize to Maj. Lennox and Graham, if that's all right."

"That is perfectly acceptable," Optimus said. "You're free to go, for now."

Sideswipe turned back inside his quarters, leaving Prime and second in command alone in the corridor.

"His creativity knows no bounds," Optimus said. "I only wish we could turn it toward more constructive activities."

"I agree," Prowl said. "I'll work on that while I think about his punishment. By the way, that isn't my only project. . ."

He unsubspaced a data pad, handing it to Optimus.

"What's this?" Prime asked.

"The report you asked for regarding my recommendations on working members of the Wreckers into the duty roster," Prowl said. "Jazz and I have discussed it at length, and came up with some ideas I hope you approve. One will help diversify combat and weapons training, as well as tactics. Another idea Jazz and I both highly recommend is going back to the old three- or five-member combat units for special ops, which will allow us to utilize some of the specialized skills now at our disposal. I also think a couple of Magnus' crew would be suitable for training as officer candidates."

"I look forward to reading it, but you didn't have to finish it so soon," Optimus said. "The Xantium won't return for at least another six weeks."

"You assigned it to me three days after they arrived," Prowl said.

"I'm not keeping track," Optimus said. "And you've had other things to keep you busy. How are things going with Barricade?"

Prowl smiled. "Things between us are well," he said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Optimus said. "Before you go, don't be too hard on Sideswipe."

Prowl's smile turned into a rare grin. "I won't."


	5. Chapter 5

Ignition

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime did read Prowl's report. More than once. Those recommendations, if implemented, would mean working with certain members from the Wreckers on an almost daily basis. Something he wished to avoid, if he could. Or did he? No use worrying about it until they came back, he told himself. He wasn't a procrastinator by nature, but in this one case he was making an exception. He set Prowl's report down, picking up one of the two pads from Ratchet. He also needed to finish reading those, but something kept coming up. Like now, with Jazz suddenly leaning over his shoulder, looking down at what he had in his hands.

"Must be interesting reading, boss bot, if you don't notice somebody sneaking up on you," Jazz said, snatching the pad out of his leader's hands before the bigger mech could protest. An optic ridge went up in surprise when he saw what his leader was reading, but he recovered quickly. He had another reason, for the moment, to be in Prime's office.

"Uh, whatever you're about to hear from Prowl, it *was not* Wheeljack's fault," Jazz said. "I mean, he didn't start it. Bluestreak asked, and Wheeljack said he'd demonstrate, and that's how Blue ended up in the med bay-sheer youngling stupidity. No other reason. 'Cade, 'Hide and I had to pry Prowler off Wheeljack, and I hid his swords so Prowler can't use 'em to try and get even. Not that Prowler would get even, but being bonded to 'Cade has had some effect on his logic circuits. Ratch said he should be able to re-attach Blue's hand with no problem. It came off clean when it got severed."

"What?" Optimus asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, processing what he just heard.

"Accident. That's all. Ratch and Percy are working on Blue right now. It's not a big deal. He'll be fine," Jazz said.

"Wheeljack let Bluestreak touch his swords?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah," Jazz said. The less said, the better, and he'd already said too much. It looked like Wheeljack's former engineering mishaps now carried over into his combat skills.

"Where are Prowl and Wheeljack now?" Optimus said.

"'Jack's hiding in my quarters and Prowler's been, ah. . .restrained by Barricade," Jazz said.

"I want a status report on Bluestreak's condition when someone is able to give me an update," Optimus said.

"Sure," Jazz said. "Now that we got that covered, wanna tell me why you're reading up on sparkling care?"

"No reason," Optimus said, trying to act casual.

"Yeah, does no reason include daily visits to the med bay, increased energon consumption and you've been more quiet in the past two weeks than you've been since I've known you?" Jazz asked.

He watched Optimus' optics widen slightly. A reaction. Minute, but a even a tiny reaction showed his instincts were probably right.

"You're sparked, aren't you?" Jazz asked softly.

Optimus nodded.

"C'mon. Let's go down to the beach and talk," Jazz said.

88888

The conversation lasted late into the evening, well after the sun went down. Jazz stayed even after Optimus went back to the barracks. He had a lot to think about. His Prime, sparked. Plenty of details to work on before the sparkling's birth. Like who would be in command while Optimus was out. When and what would they tell the humans? And the question he guessed not even Ratchet asked Optimus-would he tell the mech who he sparked his offspring with? Jazz didn't ask who. That wasn't his business. Getting his Prime to confide he was carrying and having that conversation was more than enough.

Optimus Prime was a private mech. He had friends, but he didn't often share his personal side with them very often. That was one of the reasons he was a damn fine leader, but it was also a sore spot for someone like Jazz. Sharing burdens with friends was meant to make things easier, not worse. Tell that to his stubborn leader.

At least he'd also managed to get him to talk about something else, also. Jazz had dealt with the other two-thirds of the three responsible for the previous night's zombie "attack" on base. Hound and Mirage were properly dressed down for inappropriate use of their skills and Autobot technology. Not like either cared about a lecture. They'd do it again, if offered appropriate reward. Especially Mirage. Maybe he needed to put his special ops mechs through their paces if they were getting bored enough to help perpetuate pranks. He'd run it by Optimus on Monday. Primus knew the mech needed a day off.

88888

Monday morning. The briefing with Gen. Morshower was nearly over.

"Just a couple of more things, General," Optimus said, trying to finish up. "In approximately two months I will be taking some time off. I will explain later, if that is all right. Also, we will be implement anti-zombie measures on base by the end of the week. Capt. Graham and Maj. Lennox will be relieved to hear this, I'm sure."

He gave the two humans a sidelong glance. Graham turned red from embarrassment, and Lennox glared.

"What are you talking about?" Morshower asked.

"It's in my report," Optimus said. "Good day."

The screen went blank as the techs on the other end in Washington, D.C. cut the transmission.

The Autobot leader left the hangar, and two confused humans in his wake.

"Time off? What the hell is he talking about, time off?" Lennox said. "He better have a damn good reason."

"I'm sure he does, sir," Graham said.

"I think I'll go ask," Lennox said.

"Sir, Optimus has never been anything but honest and truthful with us, so doesn't he at least deserve some respect and privacy? Maybe it has nothing to do with anything we need to know right now," Graham said.

Lennox frowned. "I guess."


End file.
